


Have You Met the New Girl?

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:49:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Hello! Root x Shaw prompt here. Brooks and Grice have joined Team Machine and Shaw's not too sure how to feel about the extra attention Brooks has been getting from Root</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Met the New Girl?

"Good to see you again, Shaw." The deep voice from her past makes Shaw stop in her tracks. Turning around swiftly, she already has her gun drawn, aimed point blank at his head. He gives a quick, nervous smile. "Now, is that  _really_  necessary?” He asks, and she cocks her head slightly to the side.

"Maybe." Her eyes are ice on his, but he shoots her another quick grin.

"I spared your life once, why not return the favor?"

The safety clicks off. She narrows her eyes, rocking her head side-to-side in thought. “..Okay, but only if you answer _one_  question.” Her voice is a low, untrusting grumble. He gives a small nod. “ _Why_ are you here?”

* * *

 

"For the scenery." He says with sarcasm, she steps forward, resting the barrel between his eyes. "Okay,  _okay!_  We got a call.”

"A call? From  _who_.”

"I don’t know."

"Come  _on_ , Grice, don’t play this game.” Her voice sings with impatience. “The gun can’t get any closer; the only leverage I have now is to pull it. And we both know-“

"You will," Grice finishes with a sour note in his voice.

"He’s telling the truth," a woman’s voice emerges from behind Grice, and a moment later it is met by a face and a gun. Cold, blue eyes met by a loose strand of dirty blonde hair. The rest of it is pulled back in a tight bun. Shaw’s eyes flicker to the gun pointed at her, then back to her eyes.

"And I should believe you  _because._.?” The woman smiles.

"Because I answered it." Shaw wants to rip the smug smile from her impeccable face. "It wasn’t a person either. It was a thing."

Shaw’s eyes spark with interest. “Go on.” The woman gives her a cross look, but does as she’s told.

"We were walking down the road after the job, and this street phone rang. We walked past, but the one before us started to as well. So, we crossed the street and- low behold- this one rang too. I answered, and it was a bunch of random words from automated voices. After a while, Grice wrote them down as I said them aloud, and we ended up here."

"How did you end up  _here?_ " Shaw asks with harsh skepticism, taking in the scenery around her. A back alley on a side street just outside of New York City.

"We got a street, a three digit number, and a time. We could only assume it was an address. We waited. You walked out. Grice here recognized you, wanted to follow you while I stayed put."

"Didn’t do a good job of it, Brooks," he remarks.

"You’d be  _dead_  by now if I did.”

Shaw looks from Grice to Brooks, to her gun, then back to Grice. One thought keeps pushing through her mind:  _The Machine._

"What’s all the hub-ub, Sameen?" Shaw hears Root’s smooth voice from behind her, and shuts her eyes tight. Part of her is annoyed, but part of her is anxious.  _She shouldn’t be here_. Root’s eyes scan over the three. “A party?” She asks, stepping up beside Shaw. “Without  _me_?” She gives a fake pout, then continues to circle, coming around behind Brooks. Her eyes pry at Brooks’s clothes, dissect her features, and Shaw silently scolds herself for the flare of jealousy stirring in her stomach. She tightens the grip on her gun.

"I  _could_  put my gun to your head, complete this little friendship circle you have going on,” Root says, mouth close to Brooks’s ear. Her eyes are on Shaw, and she smirks at the burning anger in Shaw’s eyes. “Or,  _you_  could put the gun down and we can  _all_  have a chat.” Brooks gives her a quick glance to the side, but keeps her gun in place. Root comes closer, her voice a whisper. “I know why you’re here.”

Brooks withdraws her gun, and Shaw retracts her own, stuffing it back into its place heatedly. Grice smooths down his jacket with large hands, then gives Shaw an aggravated look. She doesn’t notice; she keeps her eyes fixed in Root’s direction, watching how close she stands to Brooks- how she watches her.

"Root?"

"Yes Sameen?" Root ask, tearing her eyes from Brooks.

"Why are you here." Shaw can’t help the hostile tone in her voice.

"She told me to be here," Root responds cryptically, looking back at Brooks. "I’m assuming, to collect these two. She said we needed extra hands on this one."

 _Yeah, okay_ , Shaw thinks to herself, bristling as the four walk away. Shaw watches Root bounce along beside Brooks, debates on speeding up to join her, then decides against it.  _So long as everyone keeps those hands to themselves_.

__________\ If Your Number’s Up /_________

"Sadly," Root tells Brooks as they hit the city line, "you can’t make yourself at home. Where Sam and I work? Top secret." She crinkles her nose with amusement, continuing to walk. "However, She wants your help on this one- hope you can be reliable." Brooks gives her an off look, scanning Root up and down. With each second her eyes are on Root, Shaw can feel her blood boil.

"What is it we’re helping with?" Grice asks Shaw, jarring her from seething thoughts.

"It’s beyond me," she spits, stuffing her hands deep into her pockets.  _What’s wrong with me?_  she fumes to herself,  _I should be happy she’s finally off my case_. But that wasn’t quite it, she couldn’t leave it alone. “Ask  _her_.”

Root turns her head, looking back at Shaw with a brilliant smile. “Yes, ask Her.” Shaw rolls her eyes at the ridiculous pun. Shaw brushes past a public phone; it jumps to life. The ringing is loud and insistent, and both Root and Brooks reach past Shaw for it at the same time. Shaw grabs Brooks by the forearm, nails digging in through the long sleeve shirt she’s wearing. Brook clenches her teeth, pain and fire raging in her eyes. Shaw, on the other hand, can barely suppress a smirk as she watches Brooks’s less than pleased face. From behind, Root smiles and answers the phone. Her face goes serious, then she hangs up quickly.

” _Get. Off. Me._ " Brooks growls, eyes shooting daggers at Shaw. Shaw’s eyes narrow, but she continues to embed her nails.

"Sam." In the one, disapproving word, Shaw releases her arm, bringing her hand back to her pocket. A flicker of anger sparks in her eyes at Root’s previous tone.  _Why’d I even listen to her?_ she thinks distastefully.

” _We_  answer the phones, got it?” Shaw says to Brooks, who gives her a haughty grin.

"I don’t think so."

"Hey, you’re on  _our_  team now, so you sit back and do what  _we_  need.”

” _Your_  team?” She retorts indignantly. “This is not-“

"Where’s your boss?" Root cuts in, eyes on Grice. He gives her a baffled look.

"What?"

"Where is. Your boss." She says it with a dumbed-down air, and Grice shuts down.

"You don’t need to kn-"

"Sorry," Root cuts in with a slight pout. She turns to Brooks, and Shaw feels her cheeks burn from the look Root gives her. "I didn’t realize only one of you knew." Her voice is sweet and admiring. "Brooks?"

Brooks gives her a disheveled look, but sighs. “At the municipal building. Why?” Root turns on her heel, then walks with haste in the building’s direction. Without questioning, Shaw picks up her pace as well, falling into step beside Root. The other two, however, stand motionless.

"Why?" Brooks demands louder, crossing her arms. Root brings her head around, not for a second slowing down. An all-too-knowing smile emerges on her face.

"We have a victim in the making," Root replies casually. "And it’s her."

________\ We’ll Find You /________

 _I can’t take it, I can’t take it, I’m going to kill them both._  Murderous eyes and a scowl to be reckoned with, Shaw watches the two women waltzing down the road before her. A three minute walk felt like three hours, and the two hadn’t stopped talking yet.  _About what?_  Shaw wonders with annoyance, eyes smoldering.

She watches as, yet again, Root leans over, speaking silent words into Brooks’s ear. Yet again, Brooks laughs, and yet again, whispers something back. Root’s smile is radiant, eyes alive and glowing, with an open air in her walk.

"Are you as concerned as I am?" Grice whispers to Shaw, eyes also on the duo before them. When Shaw doesn’t respond, he takes a look at her face. "Maybe the correct word is as homicidal?"

"What are you  _talking_  about?” Shaw demands.

"Calm down, Shaw. I don’t like it either." Shaw turns her head sharply to look at him, taking in his familiar tan face and short curly hair.  _He hasn’t changed much,_  she acknowledges. “But, I’m obviously taking this better than you.”

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I’ve never seen you this- animated- ever. This worked up. And we worked together for a  _long_ time.” Shaw purses her lips angrily. “So,” he asks with conversation in his voice. “Who is she to you.”

"She’s my partner."

Grice’s eyes pull open wide, and he gives her a bewildered but giddily lopsided smile. “I didn’t know you were  _that_  kind. Explains why-“

"Work partners, Devon. God," she fumes with exasperation, "you’re still the ass I remember." He gives a hearty chuckle.

"Brooks and I- I think we’re your kind of ‘partners’ too." He watches Brooks walk, interest in his eyes. Shaw snorts.

"I highly doubt that."

"She’s a lot more fun than you were; more… laid-back."

"And by laid-back," Shaw continues the thought with a taunting smirk, "you mean she’s actually  _dumb_  enough to sleep with you.”

"That’s not what- I did not- she’s not dumb," Grice seethes, cover busted. "It’s nothing regular."

"Uh-huh," Shaw says with little interest, eyes burning once more into the back of Root’s neck.

” _See?_ " He states, "that’s what I mean. So wrapped up in the job you have no time for anything else. You haven’t changed a bit."

"Well  _one_  of us had to focus,” Shaw replies through clenched teeth. “Considering  _your_  very small attention span. Circumstances haven’t changed, neither have I.”

"You should try it," Grice tells her as they come to the marble stairs of the government building. "Calming down a some. Have a little fun." He gives her a goofy grin, and she shakes her head with a smile. Looking to the left, Shaw watches John emerge from a by-standing crowd, eyes indifferent as he walks toward the group.

"What’s the plan, Root?" He asks, but his eyes are focused on Shaw. She shoots him a dangerous look; a half smile quirks on his face.

"They are going in the front.  _You_  are staying put until you get the signal. And  _we_  are going through the back.” Root informs him. Brooks turns to her, her brow knit in slight confusion.

"Won’t they notice you?"

"Not as long as you keep  _this_  in your pocket,” Root responds with a charming smile. She takes a small, black device from her back pocket, then slips it into Brooks’s jacket. She stands there a moment, looking at Brooks, hand not moving, and Shaw cracks.

"We do  _not_  have time for this,” she growls, brushing past Grice. She grabs Root by the arm, continuing to move all the while, and Root is jerked forcefully away. Turning to walk straight, she slips her arm out of Shaw’s, and gives her a small smirk. Her voice is amused but chastising.

"Was that really necessary, Sameen?" At the tensing of Shaw’s shoulders, Root’s smile deepens.

"Yes." Her voice is curt and bitter. "One of us has to be focused on work, and not some- some blonde  _wonder_  that stumbled into the Machine’s rada-“

"Did you just call Brooks a  _blonde wonder_?” Root asks with a laugh, and Shaw’s ears become hot. Root’s good-humored laugh subsides to a coy smirk. “Are you  _jealous_ , Sam?”

 _Yes._  “No,” she shoots back too quickly, causing a toothy grin from Root.

"Don’t worry, Sweetie," she assures Shaw, tilting her head closer as they walk. "Nothing but two gals having a get-to-know-each-other chat."

Shaw looks at the ground before her, eyes livid. In a low mumble, she mutters, “yeah, right before you get a room.” Root stops, causing Shaw to slow as well, and she turns to look at Root’s smug form. Her eyes are overly affectionate- filled with pleasure and warmth- and her face has satisfaction written all over it.

” _What?_ " Shaw asks defensively.

In a low voice, Root replies, “Jealousy looks  _good_  on you.” Shaw rolls her eyes, then continues to walk. “But don’t worry,” Root continues, falling into step with Shaw’s speedy pace. “It’s only a part of Her plan.” Shaw remains quiet, waiting for Root to continue. “We have to get on their good side,” Root says at last, voice serious now. “For those guys? We can become targets at any minute. But, it’s not so easy to shoot at a target you’ve humanized.”

Shaw sees her point, then flares with annoyance at how much sense it all makes. “Well, can’t you  _humanize_  yourself from a less  _intimate_  distance?” Root merely smiles.

"Didn’t realize you cared so much."

"I  _don’t,_ " Shaw spits back; then, she looks up to Root. Root’s doting eyes are already on her. She acknowledges Root’s indulgent stare.

” _Hmmm_ , flustered looks good on you too.” Shaw rolls her eyes, looking away, and Root chuckles. With mock sympathy, she adds, “Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?”

"Oh  _please_ ,” Shaw breathes out. She feels something creep into her hand, and yanks her arm back sharply, savage murder in her eyes as she turns back to Root. With a harsh sarcasm, she roars, “ _Save_  it for your  _girlfriend_ , Root.”

Root gives her a knowing look, eyes asking if Shaw’s actually serious. “I did,” she replies with a dark smile, bringing her face closer to Shaw’s. “That’s why I grabbed  _yours_.”

Cheeks shading pink, Shaw turns away and briskly hauls forward. Voice flustered, stammering slightly, she calls back to Root in an unsteady voice. “C-c’mon. Let’s just save Control.” She can practically hear the prided smile on Root’s face, but doesn’t look back. Keeping her eyes down on the ground as she reaches the thick, metal back door, she feels a relieved smile playing on her own. She gives a small peak from the corner of her eye, making sure Root can’t see.


End file.
